Ricochet
by AstroTurtle
Summary: Modern!AU. Ike has always harboured feelings for Marth, but has continually been beaten to his goals by Roy. How then, did he manage to find Marth on his doorstep? IkeMarth LinkZelda
1. Chapter 1

Thanks to Fhal for being an _amazing_ muse and filling in plot holes with her crack :D Without her, this fic would just be empty words!

Disclaimer: 'Cause it's about time I did one; Ike, Marth, Roy, Link and TL are property of Nintendo etc.

Critique is more than appreciated, so lay it on me!

* * *

**RICOCHET**

"It's over."

Marth took a deep breath and looked up at his boyfriend – no, former boyfriend – with tear-blurred eyes. Did he just hear right?

His eyes blinked over and over, attempting to bat back the accumulating moisture. Pink lips parted and allowed a shaky croak to escape, causing the red-head to look away from his quivering face. "…Why, Roy?" He feared the answer with such ferocity, but it needed to be asked, he needed to be reassured.

"Because…" The younger male cleared his throat and looked off to the opposite side, to the shore landscape Marth had painted for him. "...I like women now."

Just for that one moment, he wanted to laugh. He wished for Link to jump out from behind the sofa with a camera to capture his terrified face and an amused grin and Ike to walk through the chestnut door after raiding their fridge with that smirk of his that reassured it was all a hoax.

More than anything, he wished for Roy's austere expression to flip into a boisterous laugh, moderately statured arms extending to wrap around his back and pull him close, into the comfort of his chest.

This had to be a joke.

Marth's head shook furiously, eyes not bothering to beat back the sorrow now. "What… The guys always joke that I am feminine… Is that not girly enough for you?"  
A low sigh escaped Roy's lips as a hand reached the bridge of his nose. "Marth, please understand. Women have breasts and holes which were _made_ for penetration and are capable of giving families."

Marth brashly scoffed through a hefty sniff. The thought of Roy harbouring a family was preposterous, the boy couldn't even keep his own folders in check. Everyday, he would urge Marth out of bed to help him search for papers on one subject or the other, only to find them in the most ineffable places. In, yes - _in_, the sofa, atop the freezer, even amongst the pile of dishes he'd sworn to wash up the night previous.

Such excuses. It wasn't about the family at all if he couldn't even look after himself.

"This has nothing to do with the future, does it Roy?" Marth's voice quavered in an pseudo whisper amongst his light sobs, "You're 17. You wouldn't think of that. You're just sick of me."

The way Roy immediately turned on his heel and sighed without a word, ready to leave the room made Marth feel nauseous. It was more than enough of a confirmation in feelings. His slender arms clenched at the cushion resting on the sofa he sat upon - the sofa they had always shared - and drew it in to his chest. He hadn't really understood why Roy always shifted when they sat together to watch a movie or, more recently, faced away from him in bed. But tonight, the answer had been simple: _Because I'm not attracted to you anymore._

His face, devoid of its usual vitality, snuggled into the fabric's damp surface. With each gentle sob, he could hear Roy walking around, what he now found so hard to call, their home, which drew him into a pensive state. Where would they each stay now? The only bedroom the flat held could not be shared, especially if his form was frowned uponby the one he had once shared it with. It would only lead to one thing.

"Marth, I'm sorry."

The apologetic urge in Roy's voice caused his nausea to worsen. If he were really so sorry about it, why did he do it? Another bout of tears threatened his eye corners, the student seeing no choice but to take his own leave this time. Roy didn't hesitate at all to stop his movements, but rather watched with a remorseful frown. He would honestly become sick of seeing sympathy in the expressions of all he knew.

Without care, his hand shoved at the bathroom door, foot clumsily extending to close it behind him. His arms instantly reached to grip the sink's edge, steadying his form his body began to shake without control.

_It's okay, Marth. You don't need him..._

His quivering hand reached forward to spin the chrome taps, taking a deep breath and trying to steady his stature before placing the appendage under the stream to rinse his face. Why was this happening to him?

A broken sob escaped his throat, hand still in place. His grip of the sink loosened and he stepped backward, leaning against the tall shower column. Another sob. His knees weakened and were forced to bend under his weight, limp body tucking behind his thighs neatly. Even he himself hadn't expected to take it this hard, even if it was mutually impending.

..._ Mutually_.

After a moderately long while, a clear knock rapped at the door, followed by a worried sigh. Good god, Marth wanted to die at this point, but he had no choice. His wobbling legs stood, svelte arms scantily gripping onto any and everything for some sort of guidance. A deep breath was huffed and released forth, mind eventually bracing itself enough to go outside.

He pulled at the door as steadily as possible in his current state, marching straight past the red-haired boy with a pout of determination. He didn't have a clue about what he was doing as he entered their bedroom and packed the minority of his clothes into the largest available suitcase. It seemed that Roy hadn't either as he followed and stuttered at the sudden wave of actions.

Before a fully constructed word was able to escape his lips, Marth interjected, voice aquiver. "I need to think about this, Roy." He offered no eye contact or insight to his plans, but his former lover seemed to nod along with it anyhow.

"I know, I'm sorry." A long pause befell the room, the void filled with zips and rustles as the elder finished packing and hauled his bag onto the floor. "...Wait, where are you going?"

Marth's teeth briefly nibbled on his lower lip as he walked into the main hall and grabbed a light jacket. Solemnly, his head lowered and a soft whisper escaped his lips: "I...I don't know."

* * *

Copious clatters filled the kitchen as Ike, extremely clumsily from his sleepy state, attempted to rustle himself some brunch. Of course, he had only just awoken after a night of lager and less than mature conversations with Link, especially so as the usual additions to their brood were alone together in their shared flat. The couple of red and blue were always the centre of the two guys' jokes, much to Marth's sarcastic amusement, as the roles of male and female in the relationship were hard to pick out. Well, not too hard if you knew the latter as well as he did.

Scantily, he stumbled over the table centering the room and gathered all the cans of beer taking up the surface in his arms. His mind was in too sluggish of a state to count them at the minute, but by the fact that he had to make two return trips to drop them all in the recycling, it became clear that he and Link had bought and drunk a lot more then he'd realized. That was another month's wages to be saved on over drafted bills then.

Ike blew a raspberry at the sight of a (somewhat) clean table. Gruff and deep, he mumbled to himself as his stomach followed his speech pattern, arm reaching up to open and scan the available cupboard before him.

_CoCo Pops._

_Protein shake._

_Marmalade._

A quick grimace reached his lips, brows knitting in slight remorse. He was scheduled to go shopping for food yesterday but his judgement was clouded. The night of alcohol Link suggested whilst Marth and Roy were together seemed more appealing at the time.

Seeing no choice, Ike grabbed the box of CoCo Pops and the deep green tin. Already having a bowl at hand, he emptied the chocolate cereal into the dish's deepened pan, picking a few out of their cushioned spaces and popping them into his mouth for a taste. "Well, at least they aren't too stale..." He muttered with a slightly displeased wince, taking another and throwing it into his mouth.

With high caution, Ike's hand grabbed the shake's can and gave it a quick shimmy, looping his finger around the lid's pin. With ease, he peeled the silver back and instantly flared his nose, recoiling slightly and groaning at the unpleasant smell. All of the drinks he was given for sport emitted the same foul stench, but appeared to taste better - like some kind of warped milk. It was at times like these that Ike wondered whether Coach Falcon was out to get him, or simply enjoyed watching him suffer.

A low, tuned hum vibrated through his lips as the tin was tipped onto the puffed rice, resounding crackles rising to his ears. As the liquid hit and coursed over the cereal, instead of turning a chocolate brown as normal milk would, it began to curdle into a deep grey pulp.

Ike's mouth opened in disgust. Having both the items been the last of his food supply, he had no choice but to eat the fermented mush or starve for the morning. Perhaps the leftover marmalade would provide the meal with some kick...

Just as he reached over to the cupboard (still pouring) to obtain the marmalade, the doorbell's boisterous ringing resounded throughout the flat. In the initial shock, Ike's body jolted and turned to face the offending area as an instinctual act. The white milk substitute he had previously held over the bowl was cast over his front, Ike groaning at the typical stage of events and walking toward the door, can still in hand. Whoever was at the door had better have prepared a reasonable argument.

"What is it?" He snapped as his arm flung the door open and held it against the adjacent wall, scowl prominent.

"I... I was wondering if you'd let me stay with you for a while..."

Ike's bitter expression disappeared as his eyes looked up and down the figure before him, widening in surprise and awe. This had to be a dream. Marth was certainly the last person he'd expect to see at his front door so early (for him) without a certain redhead and holstering a suitcase.

"Ike...C-Can I come in?"

A frantic nod of the head was given. "Sure, please."

Marth stepped into the apartment as Ike moved his form from blockading the door, smiling with embarrassment as the elder turned to peer at the substance on his stomach in curiosity.

"I-It's a protein shake! I was making breakfast!"

Red-blotted eyes just looked away without a retort or sarcastic acceptance, a hint of amusement becoming exposed as his lips momentarily twitched upwards. Something had definitely happened.

"Umm, if you just go through to the living room, I'll go wash this off and get dressed." Temptation harboured in his mind to ask whether his guest needed the shower too, but Ike just managed to bite his tongue on it. Sick fantasies could wait until later. "...Make yourself at home."

Marth nodded solemnly and watched Ike hurry down the hall into the bathroom, promptly locking the door behind him. It felt so strange, almost surreal, to be standing in Ike's living room with a suitcase. He'd actually asked the mighty and requested to stay.

As he'd spend most of his time nuzzling Roy on the sofa, Marth hadn't really regarded the room's many features.

The first thing Marth noticed of the flat were the many photo frames flocking one shelf to the left of the sofa. He slowly wondered up them and leaned forward, squinting through his tear-blurred, aching eyes to gain a clear view. Each were spaced in a fashion of the viewer being able to review all of the photos without many impairments, sorted through size. In the largest of the frames stood a practically blurred picture, only so much for the background's edges to become hazy, of his family. Ike was sat upon his mother's lap with an infant Mist in his own, a wide grin spread over his rounded face. The woman in the photo's smile radiated a calm, gentle spirit as she looked over her children, with Greil having his arm's enclosed around his wife's and Ike's shoulders.

His pouting mouth curled into a sad smile. Ike always said that he'd never remembered much of his mother or the time of his childhood and pictures were the only distant reminders he had.

Continuing along the row, the curious male marked many pictures of the flat owner's sister and father in various locations; Link and Toon Link in dapper tuxedos, making faces at each other and the camera; himself and Link giving thumbs up to the camera and several smaller pictures of Ike with various friends. As he reached the row's end, a particularly big portrait caught his attention.

His fingers traced its silver frame with a slight sense of awe, lips parting to suck in a shaky breath. He picked the photo up and brought it to eye-level, expression softening at the mood of the photo.

In front of a lush green backdrop, he himself stood with a distinct, gleeful smile, despite the fact of trying to futilely cover it with a hand. The memory of the time was still vivid as it was taken just under a year previous, in the first few weeks he had regarded Ike as a close friend. It had been such a sunny day filled with optimism and the odd cocktail. Roy hadn't been with them at that time and yet...

"Sorry about not being decent, Marth-"

The guest quickly replaced the photograph and stepped back from the shelf, turning to watch his entering host tug on a T-shirt.

"D-Don't be, it's fine, it is your home."

Ike's voice became muffled as he wrestled to cover his stomach with the fabric whilst his head was still inside. "If I may ask, why have you come to me with a particularly large suitcase?"

Marth's breath hitched somewhat, looking up at the other male with pained eyes. He shifted and lowered his gaze to the carpet, speaking in a low, soft whisper, just loud enough for Ike to comprehend.

"Roy... And I broke up."


	2. Chapter 2

Writing with Writer's Block is harder than I first figured.

* * *

Ike blinked in surprise, jaw slightly gaping as he clearly watched the elder squirm in upset and discomfort.

Inside, he felt the need to grin, but by the measurement of how deeply Marth was grieving the situation, his conscience would not allow it. "I...I'm sorry Marth..." He stuttered in a low pitch, arms reluctantly extending to grab at the other male, tugging his body forward, into his own.

As he was pulled to Ike's chest, Marth couldn't help but gasp a little. His hands, flung to his chest with the surprise of the action, became pinned against the stalwart wall of muscle the taller possessed, fingers curling ever so slightly with the shock and curious intentions. Dear Lord, it was as firm as it looked.

"I'm... Sorry." Ike said in an unsure tone, trying his utmost to repress the happiness threatening his tone. "We can get some ice cream? ...Maybe you'd like to mourn over that?"

The elder growled and pushed back from the other's enclosed hold, voice instantly raising into a shout. "No! I will not be treated like a... a girl!" He stepped backward and slumped onto the nearby sofa, folding his arms and looking down into them, speaking in more hushed tone. "...Bring me beer. Liquor. Vodka. What ever you have. I must drown my sorrows... Not hide them under layers of fat."

A brief, startled chuckle escaped Ike, eyebrows risen. Same old Marth, watching his weight. "Well, I can't have you with a pickled liver either." He proceeded to sit beside the sulking heap on his sofa and relax a little, despite the other's misfortune. "That and I haven't been shopping to get any food, much less alcohol."

It was Marth's turn to raise eyebrows this time, gaze remaining fixed on his arms. "Then what about the heap of cans in your recycling?"

"That was me and Link. We had to waste some time whilst you and Roy were..."

Another round of heavy sniffs emitted from the smaller male, his folded hands balling into loose fists, grasping at the cloth covering his arms.

Ike bit his lip, eyes cast downward. "... I – uh – I have to work tonight, but I'll buy you everything you want on my way home, okay?" His eyes lifted once more to check upon Marth's despondent expression, feeling his gullet drop at the single stream of salty water trailing down his cheek to his jaw. He sighed as a slow nod was the only response that the elder could muster, deciding not to ask questions and finding nothing else to do but rub his shoulder with reassurance.

After the shaky confession, Marth found himself at slightly more ease around the foreign apartment. Of course, the bedroom was in a state of slight disarray as Ike quickly took him to the room with the large suitcase in hand, but he didn't expect anything less from the scruffy teen. He was about to question his intentions as the case was placed upon the wide bed with a huff of effort, Ike looking about all his CDs and clothes scattered about the floor.

"Is it alright if you sleep here, Marth?" He questioned without surrendering eye contact, proceeding to collect and stack the square cases over the floor.

Marth himself opened his mouth to speak, but found himself unable to think of anything comprehensible. "I... But..."

"I'll be sleeping on the sofa in the main room, it folds out into a bed, don't worry."

The elder nibbled on his dry lower lip, feeling a twinge of guilt. "But, Ike... It's your home, I should be the one sleeping there..."

"Don't be silly." The flat owner stood with a moderate pile of CDs in each hand, smile over his lips. "You're my friend and a guest, Marth, even I'm not that rude. Oh, and I'll have this place cleared out, hopefully, by the time I leave for work. Just relax and take your mind off of things whilst I'm at it."

_Easy for him to say._

Eventually, after watching the younger stack a few towers of varied cases, Marth nodded with another hefty sigh. "Alright. Th-Thank you." Swiftly, he exited the generously sized room with lightly dragging steps, arms remaining crossed with both his hands firmly clamped to each bicep.

He drifted back to main room which both parties had walked from and sat himself back onto the navy, plush sofa. He had decided against trying probe the words Roy had given concerning his reason for them splitting, but his mind wouldn't stop. Every action made over the past weeks, every word exchanged, every phone call the red-head had taken strained his thoughts like an elastic band, edging closer and closer to the point of snapping.

Marth's arms rose from their positions to rest upon his thighs, facing upward for his hands to catch his head.

Hopeless. Absolutely hopeless.

Everyone, even he himself, probably had expected him to be much stronger than this.

As the second oldest from their circle (As Zelda was a month older than he), he was usually the one to be comforting another with a pot of tea and wise words, shouting at Roy as he made many attempts to interfere. He would admit, the absolutely abysmal feeling of being on the other side of that consultation was worse than expected. He would offer such sympathy and comfort to those who sought out his aid, especially during break-ups, but he never knew how deep the tearing pain could reach.

So deep that he had wound up perched upon Ike's severely stained sofa, willing himself to not break into a heavy cry as he did in the desolate space of his old apartment building's corridor.

A few days away from Roy were all he needed, giving him a chance to clear his thoughts and continue on as normal. Marth could function as a single unit. He _would_ function as a single unit.

---

A sound grumble emitted from the muscular bluenette as his arm reached out slightly, accidentally knocking at the foreign suitcase perched upon one corner of his bed. Its contents mostly spilled under the shadow of its landing spot, streaks of blue and white clothing strangely resembling a sea shore against the beige carpets of his home.

Ike grumbled once more and crawled to the spillage, proceeding to right the suitcase onto its back and place the contents inside, no matter how rolled up or creased. Of course, the elder would be mad at him for not taking care of the clothes as he should but that didn't really worry him.

Everything else did.

He didn't mind giving up his bed for Marth, as it would most likely help the elder to see him in a different, more caring light.

Ike stuck out his tongue with a brief 'blegh'.

More like... Roy was.

He groaned and shook his head in a swift motion, grumbling under his breath. Such pursuits should not rear themselves to the front of his mind whilst the one he cared for was in a state of such disarray.

As he continued to repack the suitcase, a bright pink flash caught the corner of his eye and held it fast, persisting to coax him into investigating. He sighed several times before finally surrendering his gaze and attention to the annoyance.

"What... Are these..." Ike spoke quizzically to himself, pulling the item of concern from the suitcase's corner and allowing a small grin to form upon his face as he held them up properly. "Laced boy shorts?"

Quickly, he took a look at the doorway leading to the hall. No peering Marth, nor footsteps to indicate one approaching. His grin widened.

In a surprisingly swift motion, his fingers stretched the elastic waistband out of curiosity and balled them, bringing it up to his nose. Frenziedly, Ike took a long, deep sniff, savouring the freshly washed scent and massaging the material between his fingers – but paused half way.

What the _**hell**_ was he doing?

The garment was slowly brought back from his face, teeth opting to bite upon his lower lip as a means of shutting himself up.

Did... _Did he just sniff Marth's underwear?_

In the moment of initial shock, Ike blinked. A strangely eerie smile crept its way up, onto his lips in sheer amusement.

_He had._

Such actions should not have brought such delight and rapture to his system, causing a slight adrenaline rush to coarse through his veins. He wouldn't be caught. He _couldn't_ be caught. He internally giggled and brought the garment up to cover his mischievous grin. All felt so settled in the pit of stomach, mind working through the kinks of jealousy.

He could bet that Roy hadn't ever dared do such a thing.

Possibly due to the fact that he was sleeping with the male they belonged to, but that was ignored.

He breathed in, generally rather than another attempt at sniffing the underwear. They seemed possessed a strangely peachy scent, not familiar to the elder's usual air.

He hadn't time to think over the new fact as the phone stuffed into the pocket of his jogging bottoms began to brashly vibrate against his thigh, sending the student out of his trance. Hastily, he delved into the pocket and pulled out the rowdy device, hitting receive with more force than needed before the deep tune could reach beyond the bedroom.

"H-Hello?" Ike answered in a somewhat flustered manner, earning laughter from the other end.

"Hey Ike! It's Mona."

The male felt eternally relieved that his boss wasn't sat in front of him and witnessing the dreading look on his face, eyes flitting between the door threatening to reveal his act and the fancy undergarments in his possession. "H-Hey, boss. What can I do you for?"

"Well technically, it's what you _can't _do. I won't need you to work tonight, but I'll still pay you as I'm telling you an hour before your shift."

Ike's gaze flicked up to the clock. It was 5pm _already_? "Wow, thanks Mona. I guess it'll be a good thing as I've got a friend over."

Another – yet much more sinister – laugh was received. "Oh, well, don't be too rough, Ike..."

"Wh-What? No, boss, he isn't-"

"He? Well, if I receive any male customers with a limp, I'll surely know where they've been..."

Ike's cheeks began to burn, the hand not holding his phone raising to rub his temples. The hand still holding Marth's 'alternative' underwear.

"Mona, please... Look, can I order a pizza?"

"Sure Ike! What would you like?"

It was almost amusing how quickly the woman could change her tune if it involved buying pizzas.

"Uhm, I'll have the usual meat feast with extra chicken and a small Hawaiian for my friend."

Another giggle. "Ooh, is he exotic?"

Followed by another groan from the male. "Mona, please... He literally just went through a messy break up."

"Aww, I'm sorry. I am sure that all will be forgotten in a few thru--"

"Price, Mona?"

"Oh, right."

Silence followed the pair with a few tuts of patient waiting and humming.

"You know what, Ikey-Boy?"

He cleared his throat. "Yes?"

"I'll give you them for free! You'll all the energy you can muster to pound that lover boy's pro-"

Promptly, Ike hung up.

He stood from the bed and shoved the mobile device back into his pocket, departing from the almost immaculate room's expanse with a grumble.

"Hey, Marth," The student paused as he walked through the hallway, waiting for some kind of confirmation but resolving he wouldn't receive one. "I ordered us some pizza because I won't be working..."

Ike's head rose to greet the elder, and froze. "Marth?" He questioned with intrigue, spinning on the ball of one foot to look into the kitchen behind him. Noting only cupboards and his concoction, his eyes flicked about the room a second time with an additional frown.

Once again he called out. "M-Marth?" Ike's eyes flicked to the phone in his hand. He did have a thing of being completely distracted whilst talking, but he wasn't in his own abyss. If the melancholy male had entered the bathroom, he would have been able to clearly hear the door wench open as its hinges were extremely squeaky. He promptly stalked from the room and into the adjoining kitchen, bending over to get a good look under the breakfast bar. "Marth?"

Nothing.

It was at that moment his mind rushed into panic.

Ike stood back up properly, rushing into each room of the flat with such a hectic attitude, he almost expected to see a trail of deep crimson staining the cream carpets, leading around to the airing cupboard where, if he'd dare to open to door, he would find Marth laying on floor, bleeding out of his stomach.

All the speculation, however, cast themselves aside as the front door's eerie creaking filled the tense air.

Ike's knitted brow loosened slightly, eyes becoming saddened at the turn of events.

Marth had fled.


End file.
